A Squirrel-y Morning

Ok, this story guys...I only wish there were pictures to go along with it. 

Just before Christmas I was visiting my parents before they took off for a Christmas vacation.  I arrived on a Friday night, and as I walked in the house, my mother mentioned to me that the cat had been chasing a mouse but she wasn't sure if she got it.  So if I saw it, try to catch it and put it outside.  No problem.  I forgot about the whole conversation and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I had to wake up fairly early to go to an eye doctor appointment.  While I was getting myself ready, my father yells,

"There goes the mouse!! Wait...that's not a mouse! It's a SQUIRREL!".

Great.

The poor, terrified thing runs into my parents room where my mother, myself, the dog and the cat go tearing after it.  After a few minutes of a lot of barking and screeching and screaming and confusion, it runs into the bathroom just off the bedroom.  I swoop in and close the door, and it is contained.  

The next part, catching it with a blanket, is easy right?  No, it's not.  Want to know why?

Because when they are scared or feeling cornered and in danger, SQUIRRELS ARE INSANE.  I had to hold the bedroom door closed while my mom chased it around the room.  To no avail.  It climbed up walls, bounced from the ceiling to the floor, shimmied up a light switch, hung from a light fixture, launched itself off the window frame, scurried under the bed, across the bed, everywhere.  Also, it completely took a shit everywhere it ran.  Poor scared thing, but seriously now...RELAX.

Keep in mind that the dog is furiously trying to get in, my mom and I are screaming like little girls every time it moved or came near one of us.  At one point it flung itself on my leg and began to climb higher so I kicked out a little to let it know I was a living thing who did not appreciate this kind of erratic behaviour.  After 10 minutes of chasing it around the room, I told my old mom to take a rest and I would try the slow, sneaky approach.  It had come to a rest on the window frame, high above my head.  I held the towel up so that I could, what?  Show it that I was surrendering?  There was no way I could have caught it at that height.  But I continued to walk up to it anyway. towel raised, shuffling my feet slowly.

And then it jumped.  ONTO MY FACE.  This is what I saw:

 Accompanied by this:

Yes, the freaking thing launched itself onto my face and held on for dear life.  I began screaming that it was attached to my face! attached to my face!  I was terrified it was going to claw my eyes out.  But it didn't.  Instead, it climbed up my face (scratching my nose in the process) and boinged! off my head.  I looked towards my mother, expecting to see a look of horror on her face, maybe concern over whether or not I had just contracted rabies.  But she was doubled over, holding her stomach and laughing her ass off.  To the point where she couldn't breathe.  Because it wasn't on HER face, right?

Finally after all the commotion, my father came in (he was probably not helping on purpose so that he could listen to us carrying on like babies), picked the squirrel up within seconds, and gently put it outside.  

All I have left to say is this:  TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL SQUIRREL.